


Dangerous Dreams

by glitterburn (orphan_account)



Category: A Frozen Flower
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 14:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/glitterburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the palace, love is the most dangerous dream of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Captain_Zombie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Zombie/gifts).



The palace is a man's world. Though women occupy its halls and corridors, they never truly live in it. Bo Meok had always known this, had always been aware of her fragile place amongst the court ladies. Raised to accept the expectations placed upon her, she never looked for anything more than she received—but like other women of her acquaintance, like the Queen herself, Bo Meok dreamed of more.

*

Bo Meok loved men. She liked looking at them, even the eunuchs, for though they were no longer men but inhabit a state between male and female, they still resembled men and could take part in activities permitted to men but forbidden to women. Bo Meok trailed after her mistress the Queen and flicked glances at the men they encountered on their walks. Eunuchs. Guardsmen. Ministers. Tutors. Servants. Musicians. The Royal Bodyguard. She could find a thing of beauty in every man, even if the man himself was old or decrepit or ill-favoured. Men stirred her desire, and she sighed after them until the Queen scolded her for being immodest.

Her Majesty desired men, too. Bo Meok knew the signs of a stifled appetite, recognised the symptoms from her own experience. For a while she was curious as to what kind of man could capture the Queen's attention. Bo Meok imagined only a handsome man would be worthy of the notice of a woman of royal blood, but it seemed that the Queen was as eclectic in her tastes as Bo Meok. Her Majesty's gaze lingered on men young and old, on fresh-faced youths and venerable old ministers. Occasionally she lowered her eyes, or blushed very faintly beneath her face powder, or else her hand trembled minutely when she gestured. In short, she behaved exactly as Bo Meok did when in the presence of a man she found attractive, except the Queen was much more discreet.

A Queen has to be discreet, of course. She is above all men and cannot be touched by any but the King.

*

When Her Majesty arrived on a ship from the empire of the Yuan, she was a tiny thing swaddled in red silk and laden with gold jewellery. Her outfit announced her status, but her eyes—large, lustrous, unblinking for long moments—revealed her fear. She took tiny steps, her gowns and wrappings rustling with each movement, the beads and pearls in her headdress clatter-chiming, and with each step she seemed to grow more confident.

Bo Meok watched her new mistress lift her chin to greet her subjects as if she was expecting a blow, but the insult was not physical. Her Majesty's bridegroom the King did not come to meet her. Messengers were dispatched to the palace without result. The commoners who lined the streets to welcome the bride to her new home waited patiently. The nobles and court officials fidgeted, embarrassment turning to humiliation and outrage at such a flagrant breach of protocol.

The Queen stood on the gangplank of the ship until Bo Meok took pity on her. Breaking protocol, ignoring the hisses of her fellow waiting-women, she hurried forward and knelt at the Queen's feet.

"This unworthy one is called Bo Meok, Your Highness. Please allow us to escort you to the palace."

When she raised her head, she saw gratitude in the Queen's eyes. The impasse broken, the Queen stepped ashore and the courtiers breathed a sigh of relief. The insult was not forgotten, but it had been glossed over. Even though Bo Meok knew she would be severely chastised for her impulsive gesture, she did not regret it as she took her place in the procession behind the Queen.

Halfway to the palace, the King came at last to meet his bride. Bo Meok stood close enough to witness the first exchange of greetings. She watched the way the Queen's body stiffened, the almost imperceptible tilt of her head forward then back, the compression of her lips. A woman wronged, a princess of the Yuan shamed: a girl who would not forget.

But then the King went to her, his hands outstretched, a smile on his face and good humour in his eyes, and past the blinding glimmer of cloth of gold and the brilliance of white brocade, he looked genuinely happy. The King, Bo Meok knew, was a man of great charm and purpose, and once his mind was set on a path, he did not retreat.

The Queen relaxed her shoulders. She smiled in response to the King's greeting, and replied to him in an accent that Bo Meok struggled to understand. It seemed the King knew what she said, for they strolled together side by side. Both were aware that they made a handsome pair.

By the time they reached the inner palace, the Queen's eyes and mouth were soft with adoration when she looked upon her husband.

It was a pity, then, that the king desired only men.

*

Bo Meok flirted and got away with it. Content in the knowledge that she was Her Majesty's favourite lady-in-waiting, her liaisons became more daring. Her first lover was a musician, far beneath her in terms of social standing, but Bo Meok reasoned that he would be grateful and a little in awe of her, and so he would never tell anyone of their affair.

Her second lover was older and wiser, a man rather than a youth, and what he lacked in looks he more than made up for in skill. Bo Meok fancied herself in love with this man, a junior minister in his fortieth year, and though he offered marriage, she did not want to be a secondary wife.

She went as far as to ask the Queen's permission, hoping for a refusal so she did not have to reject the man herself. The Queen asked for details of the relationship. Her gaze was hot and avid as Bo Meok described the acts of sexual love, but then the Queen ordered her to be silent, prohibited the marriage, and hurried from the room.

Though Bo Meok had got what she wanted, she felt guilty for hurting the Queen. Everyone knew of the King's preference, and everyone felt sorry for Her Majesty. The royal couple were affectionate with one another but not intimate. Bo Meok resolved never to mention her liaisons again, but then she fell in love—truly, desperately—with Han Baek.

He was young and handsome, bold and courageous. As one of the Royal Bodyguard, he had been sworn to a life of celibacy, for the King was jealous of his young men even if he loved only one of them. The notion of a man as masculine and beautiful as Han Baek being untouched by a woman made Bo Meok cast all her lures towards him. She wanted him, and she got him, only to find he was not quite as inexperienced as she'd thought. Still, her lessons in pleasure from her second lover proved invaluable, and soon Han Baek lost his swagger and became her devoted slave.

When he suggested that they run away together, Bo Meok agreed at first. When she began packing her jewels and examined the purple uniform of the Royal Bodyguard, the disguise she would wear for their escape, she had second thoughts. How could she leave the Queen? But love won her over, and she went to meet Han Baek, clung to him as they shared the same mount, and squeezed him tight as the horse galloped away from the palace. Her heart was heavy as they rode towards their future.

*

The Royal Bodyguard caught them before they went too far. The chief, Hong Lim, offered to speak to the King about soothing the scandal. The sub-chief, Seung Gi, spat and cursed them both for their shameless effrontery.

The King's rage was terrible, and the law clear. Han Baek was condemned to death.

The Queen did not scold Bo Meok, nor strip her of her position and jewels and silks. Instead, Her Majesty looked sad and patted the cushion beside her. "Sit with me, Bo Meok," she said, her voice now without a trace of the accent that marked her as an outsider. "Let us talk."

Bo Meok sat, gathering her silks around her so as not to sully the Queen's robes. But the Queen leaned closer and touched Bo Meok's folded hands, held clutched tight around a knot of brocade in her palm.

"Will you not punish me, Your Majesty?"

"Why add to your suffering?" The Queen sat back with a sigh, her gaze fixed on the doorway beyond the curtain of glittering beads. "It is punishment enough to know he will die."

"Because of my love for him!" Bo Meok whispered, then hid her face in her hands and wept silently.

The Queen touched her again, a helpless gesture of sympathy. "We will all die of love in this place."

Bo Meok wondered if it was a prophecy, and wept harder.

*

Han Baek did not die. He was saved from public beheading by the grace of the King, and everyone praised His Majesty's clemency.

Bo Meok did not want to be grateful. She had wanted to die alongside her lover. Indeed, she had even bought a quantity of poison to drink once she'd received the news of Han Baek's death. But he was alive, and her poison was useless, her grand gesture wasted. She knew she should be delighted at the reprieve, but it was anti-climactic and not in keeping with what she believed to be the way of true love.

Seung Gi approached her a few days later when she was alone and walking in the palace gardens. He came to her with purpose, looked around to check they were not overheard, then gripped her arm above the elbow and twisted.

Bo Meok gasped, pain striking through her as she tried to free herself.

"Bitch," Seung Gi snapped, fury contorting his features. "Whore."

She dropped to her knees and huddled on the ground, her gown billowing around her in splashes of colour like the petals of a crushed flower.

"He should have been killed," Seung Gi shouted. "_You_ should have been killed!" and then he seized her wrist, pulled her up, and kissed her.

For a moment she welcomed the embrace, for even though he was not Han Baek, he was still a man. Then Bo Meok broke free, staggering and stumbling, half turning from him to wipe her mouth.

She heard him exclaim in disgust. Angered, she faced him, and the swirl of her skirts tangled his feet. As he turned away, he tripped over the trailing length of her hems.

She laughed from reaction rather than from amusement, too high and shrill to be genuine. It didn't matter. Seung Gi swung around and stared at her, his expression as fierce as a snake roused from sleep, and Bo Meok knew she had made an enemy.

*

The Queen and Hong Lim became lovers by order of the King. It should have been a simple act, a carnal act, an act without passion, and yet it led to love.

Bo Meok watched them, aware of their love and of what it could mean. Though she relished her role as trusted confidante and go-between, she knew from experience what a treacherous path they all walked. One slip and they would fall, and this time there would be no second chance for her.

She measured her happiness against the Queen's happiness. It was a selfish thought, one unworthy of her position within the royal household, but still she did it, weighing her love for Han Baek with the Queen's love for Hong Lim. Both were forbidden, and Bo Meok wondered if the love was sharper, sweeter, because of it.

She served the Queen because it was expected of her, and because she loved Her Majesty. In love, they became like sisters.

"Go to him," the Queen told her, "and ask him to meet me in the usual place."

"It is dangerous," Bo Meok said. "Majesty, this love is a dangerous dream."

"Yes." The Queen held her gaze and smiled, no longer a princess of Yuan but a woman who knew her own mind and had no fear of the consequences. "But we need to dream, Bo Meok. We need even dangerous dreams, or else we will run mad."

And because it was expected of her, and because she accepted it, Bo Meok ran to do Her Majesty's bidding.


End file.
